


Snowflakes

by White_Rabbits_Clock



Category: The Hobbit
Genre: (the f bomb), Betting Bilbo, Crack, Flirting thorin, Fluff, M/M, crafty Dwalin, embarrassed bilbo, matchmaker dwalin, some cussing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2629064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Rabbits_Clock/pseuds/White_Rabbits_Clock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Tumblr user: Flashficprompts<br/>PROMPT NO.16</p><p>Character A is trying to cut a paper snowflake banner to decorate their room / chambers / office / classroom / other important regularly visited location and Character B comes in to flirt with them.<br/>Character C walks in and tells Character A that he or she called it and puts his or her hand out for cash money.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt is from tumblr (as shown in the summary). I loved it, so I wrote it and had this out in about five minutes.  
> Kudos to flashficprompts.

Bilbo sits crosslegged on the ground. Next to him, the campfire crackles and snaps as he carefully folds the thick off-white kind-of-vanilla paper in half and runs his freshly washed thumbs along the rounded crease. It flattens it into a definite, startling line against his pant leg.

Slowly, he holds the paper up and tilts his head and the specimen this way and that, examining it to make sure of its evenness. When he decides it’s perfectly equal in its two halves, he sets it down on top of the small leather box that previously held the paper and plucks a penknife from a hidden breast pocket.

He begins to cut out deftly symmetrical shapes, and scraps of paper soon drift to the ground in a steady, relatively rapid procession. By the time he’s done, there is more among the soft dust than in his hands. Before he can unfold it, a presence has him looking up, and up some more, so he can meet the eyes (beard) of Thorin Oakenshield.

“What are you making, Bilbo?” His voice is uncommonly quiet, and Bilbo finds himself gulping.

“A-a-a-a-”

“Bilbo!” Dwalin calls from across the encampment. Bilbo watches the big dwarf as he walks up to him, past Thorin, and holds out his hand.

“Did I not tell you?” And Bilbo wishes he’d never fucking made a damn bet with fucking _Dwalin_ , who _knows his king better than anyone, in the first place_. Bilbo drops a few coins into his burly hand. He lumbers away after a well placed smirk.

“Tell you what, halfling?” Thorin has a sneaking suspicion of what could get his mild mannered, sensible (or maybe not so sensible) burglar to make a bet with Dwalin, of all dwarrows.

“N-n-n-nothing…” Thorin arcs an eyebrow. Bilbo just looked him in the face (beard) and lied to him. He bends down and plucks up whatever it is in the hobbit’s hands and walks away, ignoring the disgruntled sounds behind him. He (predictably) sits next to Dwalin.

“What did you tell the hobbit?”

“I thought he was Bilbo to you.”

“Answer the question, Dwalin.”

“Well, the lad doesn’t think you like him, so I made a bet with him.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“I didn’t say anything about flirting, but you just did.” Dwalin says amicably. Thorin knows his lost. Slowly, he looks at his hands and unfolds the holy thing there.

“A snowflake.”

“Yep.”

“Why a snowflake?”

“Ask him.” Dwalin drones on while Thorin studies the intricate workings of the small scrap of paper that looks so nice in the light.

“He isn’t going to tell me,” Thorin says while he studies the pointed, diamond shaped spokes of the thing.

“No, but you can embarrass him into talking to you again.”

“Embarrassment is why he isn’t going to talk to me in the first place.”

“Most of the time.” Thorin is feeling rather slow. Then again, he always feels slow when it comes to Bilbo- his hobbit- and his (well, not quite, but close enough) sensible ways.

“How exactly do you propose to get him to talk past his embarrassment?” Dwalin smiles serenely at his friend and king.

“Leave a really obvious hint that you like his snowflake.” Thorin looks down for a moment before getting up and leaving.

The next day, the little paper snowflake is woven into Thorin’s hair through all the little holes. Bilbo’s face is flaming the entire day. It works, though.


End file.
